


Man in the mirror

by mortianna



Category: James McAvoy - Fandom
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Masturbation, Other, Peeping Tom, Watching, slight humour, things you can do with a mirror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:22:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27837505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortianna/pseuds/mortianna
Summary: Someone watches someone. doing it to himself. With himself. Well, seen the man in the mirror on stage? Watching interviews: "Maybe I like to be watched"? Well, someone likes watching :-) Household chores hold their promises...
Relationships: James McAvoy/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Man in the mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FassAvoySub](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FassAvoySub/gifts).



She looked around on the empty street and down the windows underneath theirs and shook out the  
cushion. Wow, hadn’t done this in a long time. Okay, that was that. And now? Let the window stand  
open or close it? Street was empty, what with the virus and the air was mild and sweet as if nature  
was mocking the humans and their silly fears. Yes, the sun would always go up again – but would  
they all be there, at least she herself and the ones she loved? There was no answer to be found. 

She was about to retrace from the window when something caught her gaze – a reflection in a –  
window on the other side of the road? No, it was a – mirror and it had caught a sunbeam and –  
noooo, that just wasn’t right. That was – what? Did she really see what she thought she was seeing?  
She wanted to step away, step back and close the window, walk away, but – something – made her  
stand where she was and hide a bit behind the curtain. The sight was just so beautiful. If disturbing.  
And strictly private. Really private. 

The man was sitting with his back to her on an orange chair in front of a mirror. She could see his  
reflection in the mirror quite clearly, what had caught her attention was the watch he was wearing  
on the right wrist that had caught the sunlight and reflected it to her through the mirror. It was the  
only thing the man was wearing. 

He had short shorn dark hair, big piercing eyes, a large nose and a lush mouth surrounded by more  
than a three days worth of stubble, a very strong and broad neck, thick shoulder- and arm muscles, a  
nearly unbehaired broad chest, a toned belly with just the slightest layer of fat and a barely visible  
hairline downwards, big thighs and strong calves and what had caught her eye was the movement he  
had made with that hand in the region down the ways. He had dark hair there, too, even if the beard  
shone orange in the sunlight – and he was holding himself in his right hand pleasuring himself. Just  
when she looked, he closed his eyes, opened his mouth and she could imagine hearing him moan. 

Something hot and sweet shot through her body and she gave a moan, too. Then she looked around.  
Was her door – closed? The door to the room she was in? Yes, it was. She looked back to the man in  
the mirror. His head had fallen back, eyes closed, and she could see his tongue, a strong thick tongue,  
moving about his lips, his Adam’s apple stood out proudly on his throat. His shoulders and chest  
gleamed, as if he had broken into a sweat – she squinted: did he have freckles on the shoulders, arms  
and even around the collarbone? Yes, he had. 

And his hand moved, the strong muscles on the upper and lower right arm, the left was on his side,  
the hand clinging to the chair and now as she watched – there – he just opened his hand as if to  
show her what he had there and yes, he could be proud of that, even if he hadn’t made it himself – it  
was a very enticing, thick and strong piece of flesh he had there and it seemed to function to his full  
satisfaction. 

She was mesmerized and any thought of leaving and letting him do what he did in private which  
would have been the only normal reaction, healthy and – moral – went out of the window, so to  
speak, when he closed his strong, if slightly small hand around the shaft again and let the thumb  
stroke the head once, twice, thrice, then he lowered it and let it encircle himself with the other  
fingers – it seemed he didn’t want to hurry, not yet, he wanted to take his time and really enjoy  
himself. 

She could see and feel him moan and moaned herself, her whole body felt hot and especially on her  
corresponding spot and yes, the heat was filled with shame, too, but the sight was really too good to  
be true. Or missed. She saw the knuckles coming out as he moved his hand slowly up and down,  
clenching it rhythmically and yes, he seemed to enjoy himself very much, the head glistened now, his  
whole body had sunken a bit down onto the chair, her gaze wandered to his face and he had his eyes  
open now and watched himself doing – himself. 

She had to swallow hard. Yes, that was embarrassing but hot as hell, too. She had to put out one  
hand to cling to the windowsill to not fall down. She would have liked very much to lie down on the  
bed to take care of the urge the sight of that man doing what he was doing had caused her but she  
wouldn’t miss the sight of him for the world, not even for seeking her own pleasure. 

He was going faster now, couldn’t restrain himself, the hand moved up and down and taking up pace  
and the thumb stroked over the head, over the slit every five movements or so, she saw him circling  
the head once, but obviously, he was too far gone already for that, for there to be some refinement,  
and went back to moving up and down and clenching around himself and now his left hand was there  
and pinched his right nipple and another hot flash shot through her and hit home, she could just feel  
his arousal as if it were her own, and his head fell back even more, so that she could only see his  
throat and the tongue licking his lips in the mirror, but his twisted face upside down as if in pain for  
real, and he pinched his nipple hard and she moaned and her urge got stronger but she didn’t move  
away, she watched him and now he moved with his whole body into his clenched fist and she  
watched mesmerized as the tip of the head let out more fluid, creamy, white, and she noticed in a far  
away part of her head that she was moaning rhythmically, too, and that her hand had found the way  
to her most pulsing and needing spot and okay, how was this possible, how could he do it, his head  
had come up again, even if his whole body was now movement that wanted, needed to come to an  
end and his large eyes were open and watched himself in the mirror and his mouth was open, too,  
and it looked as if he was talking to himself, applauding himself and that again was so embarrassing  
but hot as hell, too, and her own hand moved in unison with his feverish movement, he now flicked  
his thumb again, once, twice, thrice, then his body went rigid on the chair for a moment, and after  
that he moved his hand again around the shaft, real hard and fast, and her hand moved, too, and, oh  
holy fuck, now he came, the one hand pinching his nipple, the other now holding still and she saw  
the knuckles come out, he must be clenching hard, oh so hard, and then she saw his head fall back,  
his eyes close and his cum thick and white and creamy on his cock’s head, his hand and even  
projectile-shot on the mirror. She moved her thumb, moaned loudly and came, too. 

After that her eyes flew open again and she gulped. His eyes were also open. And he watched himself  
in the mirror. And obviously liked what he saw there –well, who could not have liked it? But –his  
mouth curled and his eyes – no, that couldn’t be or could it? – had caught hers in the mirror and  
didn’t let them go. He couldn’t see her, couldn’t have seen her. Or could he now? 

Her phone rang. She took it. “If you can see me, I can see you. Physics”. Dark, husky, nearly no voice  
at all. She shivered. “Is that so? Never any good at that, I’m afraid”. “Really? Well, I can imagine other  
things you’re good at. There’s a mirror to clean here. Wear the housemaid’s uniform, will you? I’m  
waiting for you on this chair you seem to like so much. All sticky and – ready – again. Just as you like  
me. Door’s open”. 

“Oh okay”, she gulped. And took a deep breath. “Coming”. “I hoped you’d say that”.

**Author's Note:**

> well, this was rather embarrassing to read. Or not? After I read some stuff here, I ventured out with it. Like?  
> gifted to someone cause reading that someone's stuff made me come out with this here :-) thanks a lot!!!


End file.
